


Lipstick and Pamphlets

by Eileniessa



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Bartender! Yennefer, Doctor! Tissaia, F/F, Flirting, Memory Loss, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26051791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eileniessa/pseuds/Eileniessa
Summary: It was one fifty-five, five minutes till closing, when she walked through the door and almost made Yennefer drop the glass she had been cleaning behind the bar.Dialogue Prompt: "I feel like we've met before..."
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 30
Kudos: 81





	Lipstick and Pamphlets

It was one fifty-five, five minutes till closing, when she walked through the door and almost made Yennefer drop the glass she had been cleaning behind the bar. She looked around the empty watering hole and then looked at the floor. Yennefer laughed quietly into her hand and made a note to drop into Homebase on her way to work tomorrow when the stranger wrinkled her nose at the state of the doormat. She hesitated and as Yennefer started to worry that her matted fabric had scared the stranger off, she tentatively wiped her boots on the bottom right corner and looked up. Their eyes met beneath the rim of a wineglass hanging bottom-up from a rack, and Yennefer wondered if it was still her head injury making her feel light-headed. She dropped her eyes to the glass in her hand to steady herself and heard the tell-tale tap of the stranger’s heels as she crossed the bar and sat on a barstool behind her.

“Excuse me,” said the stranger.

To be on the safe side, Yennefer put the glass down before she turned around and proceeded to stare opened-mouthed. Yennefer knew who she was. At least, she thought she did.

Clear eyes of midnight blue looked at her from behind large glasses with black, full-rimmed frames like she used to wear when she saw 3D films at the cinema when motion-sickness and selling your soul to pay for a ticket were all the rage. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a neat bun at the back of her neck and she was wearing dark blue skinny jeans and a grey jumper that looked like it had come straight off a model in the Marks and Spencer’s shop window.

It took Yennefer a moment to regain enough of her senses to realize the woman was talking to her. “What?” she asked, and cringed.

If the stranger took offence at her rudeness, she didn’t show it. “I asked if you were alright,” she said.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Yennefer said, trying to sound like she meant it. “It’s just…” She trailed off and the stranger gestured for her to continue. “I feel like we’ve met before.”

The stranger smiled, a little curl in the corner of her mouth that Yennefer might have missed had she not been looking in that direction. “Only in your dreams,” she said. “I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

Yennefer looked at the time. One fifty-seven. The bar closed at two and they usually stopped serving people past ten to, but Yennefer didn’t see why she couldn’t make an exception this once. It was her bar, after all, and she’d already sent the staff home early. She turned her back to the stranger while she made her order with shaking fingers and kept her eyes below the wine glasses. When she had finished, having miraculously not been delayed by falling glass, Yennefer put the drink down on the counter and slid it across.

The stranger took out her wallet and Yennefer put a hand out to stop her.

“This ones on me,” she said.

The stranger inclined her head in thanks and picked up the glass. “Cheers,” she said, raising her glass.

“Cheers,” said Yennefer, not feeling stupid at all.

Without breaking eyes contact, the stranger took a sip of her gin and tonic and licked her lips.

Yennefer shuddered and bent behind the bar to pick up a cloth which she used to start cleaning the spotless counter. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“You can’t remember my name,” said the stranger, “yet you recalled owing me a drink. Curious.”

“Are you sure I’m the one imagining things?” said Yennefer. She didn’t like owing people, even if it was just a free drink at her bar.

The stranger offered her hand. “Tissaia,” she said.

Yennefer shook it. “Yennefer,” she said, “but I think you already knew that.”

Tissaia brought the glass to her lips and looked at her over the rim. “I know a great many things about you,” she said. “I know that you like to watch horror films on a first date because it gets things moving. I know that you named your bar The Djin after a local legend from your town in Vengerberg. I know that you hate the dark and,” she took a sip, “I know that you find me very attractive.”

“That’s not-“ Yennefer started. “I mean you are, but I don’t-“

Tissaia laughed. “Cat got your tongue?” she asked.

“No,” said Yennefer. “I’m just looking for the nearest hole to jump into.”

“Oh, don’t do that,” said Tissaia. She reached across the bar and put her fingers on Yennefer’s chin, tilting her head down until they were eye level. “I’m having such a good time.”

Yennefer swallowed. She could taste the gin and tonic on Tissaia’s breath and smell her ginger shampoo. She used to hate ginger. Not anymore.

“How do you know me?” Yennefer asked.

Tissaia reached behind Yennefer and tucked her hair behind her ear then leant back in her chair. “I’m your guardian angel,” she said.

Yennefer scoffed. “Are you ever going to give me a straight answer?”

“If you ask the right question.”

“What would you ask?”

Tissaia thought for a moment, tracing the rim of the glass with her finger. “Which dream did I come from,” she said.

“I never remember my dreams,” said Yennefer.

“But what if it were real?” Tissaia asked.

“Then it wouldn’t be a dream.”

“No,” Tissaia said with a smile, “it wouldn’t. So why would you think it was?”

“I hate riddles,” said Yennefer.

“Would you like a hint?” Tissaia asked.

“Coming from you, that would only make things worse.”

“We’ll see.”

Tissaia reached into her jacket pocket and put a piece of coloured paper onto the bar. It was an NHS pamphlet about when to see your GP versus got to the hospital and on the back someone had written her name and the name of her bar in red lipstick next to a number that looked like Yennefer’s but wasn’t quite right.

“You were there, last night,” said Yennefer. “At the hospital.” She’d gone to Accident and Emergency sometime after midnight when a confrontation with a drunk, homophobic Parton got out of hand and she had her head smashed against a table before Geralt, her bouncer, could throw the arsehole out.

Tissaia nodded. “I was,” she said.

“I gave you the wrong number,” Yennefer said, tapping the pamphlet.

“I thought you might have,” said Tissaia.

“Is that why you came here?”

“Yes,” said Tissaia, “and I was passing by.”

“Patient or staff?” Yennefer asked.

“I think I already answered that,” said Tissaia.

“I can’t-“

“You can.”

Yennefer closed her eyes rubbed her temples. She thought back to their earlier conversation. Tissaia had said she was her guardian angel, that she had come from her dreams, and unless Yennefer was having one hell of a hallucination, Tissaia was certainly very, very real. So why would she think she was dreaming? And that’s when it hit her.

“Doctor de Vries,” said Yennefer, because what was more heavenly than being treated by a hot doctor. “You don’t look the same out of your scrubs.”

“Which you were very keen to see me without last night,” said Tissaia.

Yennefer groaned and hid her face in her hands. Her cheeks felt warm under her fingers.

Tissaia chuckled. “So, you do blush,” she said. “Considering the things you were saying last night, I thought you quite incapable.”

Yennefer looked up. “Do I want to know?” She asked.

“I daresay you don’t,” said Tissaia, “but I will tell you that you helped me get to the end of a very long shift.” Tissaia reached across the bar and put her hand on Yennefer’s. “So, thank you.”

Yennefer thanked the Gods that she wasn’t a man. She didn’t want to be showing. “My pleasure,” she said quietly.

Tissaia smirked, she knew exactly what she was doing to her, and finished her drink. “I should be heading home,” she said.

“Right,” said Yennefer.

She walked Tissaia to the door and held it open for her, but Tissaia didn’t step outside.

“Are you waiting for a cab?” Yennefer asked.

“I drove,” said Tissaia.

“Then what-“

Tissaia stood up on her tiptoes and kissed Yennefer. Gin and tonic never tasted so good. Yennefer leaned forward to deepen the kiss and Tissaia put her fingers on her chin to tilt her head back.

“Till tomorrow,” she said, and stepped outside.

“Wait,” said Yennefer. “Can I have your number?”

“How do you know you don’t already have it?” Tissaia asked.

Yennefer stood in the doorway and watched Tissaia walk down the high street and turn down the street to the car park. When she was gone, Yennefer closed the doors and went to collect Tissaia’s glass from the bar. She had put the pamphlet over the top and Yennefer picked it up. She threw it in the bin and noticed that a piece of paper had fallen out from between the folds. It was covered in red lipstick and had a phone number on it.

_Since you can’t remember yours – Tissaia._

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be for the Yennaia Flash Fiction Challenge I was running but it got toooo looooong (and it's not the first time this happened).
> 
> I'll be posting a hospital fic (1K?), a camping fic (1-2K?) and a Vigilante AU (2K?) soon.


End file.
